White and Black
by fiesa
Summary: Weiss Side B. A picnic by day. A mission by night. A still-life in white and black. OneShot.


**White and Black**

_Summary: Weiss Side B. A picnic by day. A mission by night. A still-life in white and black. OneShot. _

_Warning: watch out for snapshot-likeness, randomness, strangeness and unrelatedness. Done for fun. I recommend you read for the fun of it, too^^  
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_Set: Post – or during – Weiss Side B. _

_Disclaimer: Standards apply. _

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><p>There is beauty even in a metallic-grey, cubic factory complex.<p>

Aya saw it first: a long, violet flower, sprouting from the ground stubbornly. Her roots and leaves had cracked the pavement after the long, hard rain of the weekend. The world seemed vibrant again, alive in all stages of growth. The color of the one flower stood out brightly and somehow painfully lonely and yet it went almost unnoticed.

Well, almost, because Michel followed Aya's glance and saw it, too.

"Hey, there's a flower over there, directly at the factory's wall! Kurumi, right there! Free, do you see it? It's beautiful, just look at the color! I wonder how it is able to survive?"

_That's the question_, Aya thought but didn't say anything, merely shrugged. Michel was tugging at Free's sleeve, pulling the tall man over to the fence that separated forest from factory grounds. The fact that Free could probably kill the boy with just one hand was rendered meaningless by the care he showed whenever dealing with him. Kurumi got up from her place on the picnic blanket as well, glancing shortly at Aya and then following Michel. Yuki, in the meantime, was leaning on the tree trunk behind him and didn't make any move to get up. He was fiddling with his mp3-player though the earplugs weren't in his ears. It almost made Aya smile, the way the boy tried to act grown-up, serious and detached. Ken once had said Yuki was imitating Aya. Well, maybe. But he would make sure that Yuki didn't forget he still was a child… While the sun shone down on them, the red-haired man leaned back and watched the green foliage of the trees. The book in his lap had yet to be opened.

"What kind of flower is it, Aya?"

Kurumi, Michel and Free returned to their picnic blanket and Michel let himself fall onto it. Rolling over once giggling, he came to lie directly next to Aya. Blue eyes looked up at the older man, wide and innocent and old.

"Yeah, what kind?" Kurumi echoed, honest interest in her face as well. She was so eager to learn, so happy to be of help. She had changed since she had first come to their flower shop a year ago. She had matured, become more self-confident… She was a good girl. She had started to look after Yuki and Michel, something the other men did, too, but they all knew they never would be able to replace Kurumi in her position as a somewhat-mother to the boys.

"Lupinum angustifolius," he answered without thinking. Yuki glanced at him questioningly. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"It's pretty." The boy's gaze became remote, too, as he looked at the strong violet flower. "It doesn't belong there."

"No," Michel agreed. "It's too grey over there. Just grey, wherever you look." He pulled a face. "I don't like factories." The boy folded his arms underneath his head to stare up into the trees. His golden hair touched Aya's legs. Kurumi and Free both sat down again, Kurumi mimicking Michel's position. He turned to smile at her, an open smile that made Kurumi return in kind. Free sat down on their other side, determined to keep watch – Heaven knew he _always_ was watchful, but so were Aya and Ken and Chloe. Michel, too, already was honing his sense of watchfulness and even Yuki had developed it. Although it had already been there, Aya thought. The orphan had lived on the streets for years, after all.

"But you don't see the factory when you lay down," Kurumi noticed as she placed her head next to Michel's. "And since it is Sunday there is no work going on over there. If you just look into the tree tops and listen to the forest, it's like there is nothing else here except for us…"

"I don't like factories but I like this place!" Michel exclaimed and turned his head. "Can we come here more often, Aya?"

Yuki snorted. "_Come on._ Why should we? There are better spots for a picnic than this place."

Michel pouted. "But this is the best place to find wild flowers and herbs, Yuki, I told you!"

"Remind me why we need those."

"Because we _do_ have a school project going. And you _have_ to get to know our flora, Yuki! You know most of the flowers we have in the shop but you need the basics, as well. It's important to always be informed about such things!"

"We barely even help in the shop during opening hours because we're too young," Yuki snorted. "We have a few years to learn the names."

"Hey, you two, don't fight," Kurumi interrupted them, her voice soft. It held a steely edge, though, Aya noticed. Once upon a time she would have tried to negotiate between the conflicting parties. As she had become a part of their _family_, she had learned to simply shut them up sometimes. It was a nice exchange for Aya, not having to be the one who had to give orders every time.

"Free?" Michel's smile was radiant as he ignored the dark-haired boy. He took Kurumi's hand instead and squeezed it gently. "Come on, lay down, too. It's nicely quiet. You can relax a bit and listen to the birds."

Free obeyed and lowered himself carefully onto their picnic blanket. The two covered baskets that had contained sandwiches and tea were already stacked at the side neatly. Yuki mumbled something under his breath and, when he had made sure nobody believed he _actually_ wanted to do it, slumped down as well. For a while, only slight shifting from Michel's side and the soft rustling of the pages of a book were heard. Aya smiled inwardly. Sunshine, warmth, the smell of the forest and the sound of the wind – and Yuki, Michel and Kurumi were fast asleep, their breathing soft and regular. He turned the next page.

A bird called, loudly and irritated.

Immediately, Aya tensed, looking all around him. The same instant Free was wide awake. His movement startled Michel, who continued to sleep peacefully as Free touched his forehead gently. Yuki's glasses were sitting on his nose in an off-kilter way since he hadn't bothered to take them off. Kurumi's blond hair was mixing up with Michel's. All three of them slept, calmly and peacefully. Aya and Free exchanged glances. Free took out his Tarot cards and started shuffling. Aya leaned back watchfully.

The guard emerged from the forest, his walkie-talkie clipped to his collar, his gun in his holster. He jerked as he saw them, seemingly surprised, but he fooled neither Aya nor Free.

"Hey!" he called out, loudly and irritated. And, perhaps, a bit nervous. "What are you doing…"

Free lifted a hand in a way that demanded attention and the man froze for a second. Then, of course, his face tightened in righteous anger of being interrupted so impolitely and he stiffened, his hand fisting above his holster.

"I asked you…"

"Please," Aya said politely. "The children are sleeping. Would you care to lower your voice?"

The man did so, albeit unhappily. "What are you doing here?" He demanded yet again, his gaze sweeping the immediate area, measuring out how much of the factory's grounds they could have seen from their picnic spot.

"We're on a picnic trip," Aya replied, trying to arrange his face into a somewhat open expression. It felt more and more natural these days. "My friend here –" he indicated at Free – "And his sister came to visit from Ireland and since the weather was so good…" He shrugged, seemingly careless. "And plus, the boys have a school assignment. They need to collect and dry wild flowers and herbs. This is the best place, so we came here."

The guard, clad in a blue-and-white uniform, eyed him suspiciously. "This is a peculiar picnic spot."

Aya grimaced. "I know. But the boys liked it and wouldn't let us settle anywhere else."

Stiffly, the man took in the two picnic bags, the two sleeping boys, and the woman in between them. Aya knew he was fuming on the inside. But he didn't have the authority to make them leave and he knew as well as Aya knew. Of course, had he known the second picnic box was only pretense, filled with Yuki's technological equipment, binoculars and other things, he would have suffered a heart attack. As it was, he turned to leave again.

"Please don't leave any garbage," he told Aya stiffly, keeping up the pretense of a guardsman. The swordsman nodded.

"Of course."

Free, who had been watching carefully, only abandoned his Tarot deck when the steps of the man had receded and the birds began to sing again.

Yuki sat up while Michel opened his eyes. "I don't like him." "Me neither," answered his blonde friend. "Something's definitely odd here."

"Well," Aya said. "Do you have everything you need?"

Yuki, Michel and Free nodded. Of course, what they needed was nowhere near flowers and herbs, but they knew that much. Although Michel and Kurumi _had_ collected quite a few while Yuki had hacked into the security network of the corporation. Michel grinned happily. "I get to wake Kurumi!"

Assembling their stuff, they cleared their picnic place and wandered back to their car. Kurumi and Michel chatted, Yuki listened and Free carried the picnic baskets. Aya glanced back at the factory.

Yes, something was odd about this place. But he knew why he had the sensation of foreboding. Oh yes, he knew.

* * *

><p>"Ground floor clear!"<p>

Chloe's voice sounded hollow and echoed in the dark factory halls. It had taken him about half an hour to check the entire floor and granted its size he had been _fast._ Ken swore silently as he continued his check of the second floor of the building. They were looking for nothing important, really – the targets already were eliminated. They just had to make sure there was no other enemy lurking in the shadows all around them…

The last corner. "Clear!" He called down silently. On his way back, he didn't pay attention for a second and almost stumbled over one of the guardsmen who had been guarding the entrances. He was dead. Ken pulled a face as his shoe slipped in the pool of blood.

"Where's Free?" He asked as he jumped down the last steps of the ladder in the ceiling hatch that was the only access to the second story of the factory halls. The complex was huge, immaculately clean, and designed to keep three-hundred or so slaves _inside_ without risking losing them too quickly. Ken shuddered at the fact that people had been held captive here and, at the same time, felt the same detached feeling of satisfaction: those slave-merchants were dead already. Some of them had died through Ken's own hands.

Free rounded a corner and nodded at him curtly. "The grounds are clear." Chloe's voice echoed both through the hall and through Ken's headset. "Is our great leader returning soon, too?"

Ken chuckled and imagined Aya's face. Now, more than a year since the read-headed swordsman and Chloe had met, the inicial rivalry between the two of them had somehow diminished as Chloe came to accept Aya's leadership. It hadn't been passed on uncontested but now, finally, Chloe had settled down. Aya's voice was crisp and clear, as always.

"Office building clear. Targets eliminated, mission accomplished. Fall back to the meeting point."

"Ken, you're making a mess," Chloe remarked as they made their way across the grounds to their designated meeting point. Ken looked down: his bugnuks were covered in blood. He was leaving a trail of dark red along the path, marking the way they had come from and were going to. He quickly shook his claws to free them of the slowly congealing liquid and shuddered at the memory of his kills. _These people had deserved it_, he thought, almost defensively. The memory of fifty dead victims, dirty and starved, butchered mercilessly by their captors, assaulted him and he knew it had been the right thing to do. Those people had been slave merchants. They had abducted and threatened people to work for them and had rather killed them than letting them be freed by Kryptonbrand Side B. The image was clear in Ken's mind's eye. He shuddered again.

Florists by day. Assassins by night. He felt like two sides of a coin, like someone who had two different identities, maybe even a split personality. Everyone continued gushing how the world wasn't just white and black. Yet to Ken it was exactly that and he knew Aya felt the same. Colors had long drained from the picture they saw day after day, night after night. A still-life was what was left: a still-life in white and black, snapshots of a life that should have been impossible and yet wasn't. It wasn't that there being no colors meant there was no happiness – or something like it – in their lives. It just meant they were home in two different endings of a spectrum, were two extremes that complimented each other while being each other's absolute opposite. Day and night, florist and assassin. White and black. It was impossible for Ken to forget where he came from and what he was. Yet if Aya remained here he would, too. KB had become his new family, simply because it had become Aya's as well.

They met in a small courtyard, Free arriving shortly before Ken and Chloe. Aya was already waiting, his half-mask covering his face as usual.

"Status?"

"Mission complete. No surprises."

Aya nodded. "Let's go. We've done our job." Without glancing back even once, he turned and headed for the hole in the fence they had come through. Ken followed, then Free, then Chloe. The night wind cooled his heated face. It had been good they had left Yuki and Michel behind tonight. Somehow he didn't think the sight of the many dead slaves, men and women, children and old alike, would have helped them to fall asleep more easily.

They had almost reached their exit when Ken stopped short and traced back his last few steps, then came to halt at a looming wall in front of him. He crouched down next to a long, single-standing, violet flower. Aya, Chloe and Free, who noticed his delay, stopped as well.

"What's the matter?" Aya asked. Ken almost smiled.

"Look at that. Lupines."

Aya traced a few steps back to look at the flower as well. Silently, they stood there for a few seconds, Ken in a crouch, his hands still covered in blood, Aya with his katana unsheathed in his hand. It was clean, Ken nodded. It's polished steel shone like silver.

Chloe made an impatient sound but they ignored him. Ken looked up at Aya's face and Aya stared back, and then the younger man got up smoothly and gave a wry grin.

"Come on."

They disappeared into the night.

_Don't let us wish in vain._

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><p><em>AN: I didn't chose lupines because of their meaning, which, by the way, is "insatiability" or even "greed" (the first isn't even so bad), but because they literally do grow everywhere and are rather beautiful. The last sentence is a rough translation from an originally German sentence I found referring to lupines. It's a quite free translation but one I rather like. _


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